By Bob W Christian

Please don’t worry, this isn’t written about me, it’s about a close family member.

My morning coffee.
Unlike me, is strong.
I say morning, actually
It’s when I come round.
After another of those,
Unforgettable nights.
I just can’t remember.

Strength, something
I lost years ago. Now
A way of measuring.
How much solution,
Is poured out. While
Revisiting the regrets.
In this endless story.

I’ve told anyone who’d
Listen. While continually
Poisoning myself, slowly,
Desperately. Fighting the
Inevitable. One last shot,
To stop my life, becoming
A sad statistic of addiction.

(c)BobChristianpoetry